


An Utterly Cliche Moment

by whiteswan



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Cliche, F/M, Trapped In A Closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 15:13:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2029824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteswan/pseuds/whiteswan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Plotless JJ/Hotch fluff, using one of the most contrived cliches out there. S3 AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Utterly Cliche Moment

Plot-less fluff written to cheer up a friend. Set mid-to-late-S3; AU. And I still don’t own them.  
The last thing Aaron Hotchner was expecting as he walked down the hallway outside the BAU’s bullpen was to be unceremoniously grabbed and shoved into a supply closet. When he recovered from the momentary shock and tried the doorknob, he was only slightly surprised that it had been locked behind him. And since he had nothing more at hand than the small stack of files he’d been carrying when he was abducted, and the closet was dark except for the small strip of light under the door, he was stuck. “Damn it. I’m going to kill Dave.”  
“Hotch?”  
And apparently he wasn’t alone in his imprisonment, “JJ? What’s going on?”  
Small shuffling sounds could be heard as the blonde made her way towards him, feeling along the shelves for guidance, “I was hoping you could tell me. Pen locked me in here about ten minutes ago. I’ve been planning my revenge via her favorite laptop ever since.”  
“She and Dave must be in on this together then; he’s the one who shoved me in here.” He reached out a hand to steady her as she drew closer, “Are you okay?”  
“Other than barking my shin against a box of toner because my supposed best friend removed the light bulb from in here, I’m alright.” She took his hand and leaned against the shelf next to him, “Did Dave say what this was all about?”  
Hotch felt for the shelf carefully and set down the files, “Nothing. Garcia?”  
“Just a vague, ‘This is for your own good Buttercup,’ and the door slamming behind her,” the blonde scoffed in annoyance, “Why do I put up with her?”  
Hotch couldn’t help but grin, even though she couldn’t see it in the dark, “For the same reason I haven’t killed Dave…yet: they’re our best friends. Though I am rethinking that option at the moment.”  
That made her laugh, “We’ll kill them together.”  
“Agreed.” A passing thought made him groan, “Damn, I think I know what this is about.”  
“Oh? Please tell me, so I know just what to add to the list of reasons for which we’re killing them.”  
“Dave’s been making comments lately about getting me back out into the dating world. However, our schedule has been making it hard for him to find an opportunity to force the issue. He also knows that I’m closer to you than anyone else. I think he’s hoping that we’ll play Post Office in here, as it were; it was one of his favorite games in the old days.” And he was hoping that she didn’t smack him in Rossi’s stead for the thought.  
“Complete with ‘Special Deliveries’?” He could hear the amusement in her voice now and counted that far above the other reactions she could have had. She surprised him a moment later by slipping her arm around his waist, “Well, if we’re going to kill them anyways, we might as well make it worth the jail sentence.”  
Hotch grinned and pulled her against him, “Why Agent Jareau, just what are you suggesting?”  
“Well Agent Hotchner, I’m suggesting that we put your soon-to-be-dead friend’s reputation to shame. Care to play?”  
“By all means.” He curved one hand behind her neck and the other around her waist, “Are you sure about this?” He could practically feel her answering grin. And as he bent to capture her lips with his he couldn’t resist whispering, “Special delivery…”  
Twenty minutes later, they heard the turn of a key in a lock and, with one last smoothing of hands over hair and brushing miniscule wrinkles out of clothes, left the supply closet. Luckily, their captors had been smart enough to high-tail it out of sight as soon as they’d unlocked the door. The two were the picture of professionalism as they walked down the hall to JJ’s office , both with files in hand…at least as long as one didn’t look too closely at their now-swollen lips.  
When they reached her office Hotch set down his files once more to pull her back against him for one more stolen moment. Pressing his hand to her abdomen he whispered, “You know that we’re going to have to tell them soon. I don’t need Dave making any more plans to get me a girlfriend when I’ve managed just fine on my own. And we won’t be able to hide things too much longer.”  
JJ leaned back against him, a mischievous smile visible on her lips, “I know. And its fiancée, not girlfriend, remember? But you have to admit, it has been fun.”  
“I can’t argue with you on that sweetheart.” He kissed the top of her head and tightened his arms around her waist, “Make sure you remember to eat today, alright?”  
She laid a hand over the one pressed to her for-now-flat abdomen, “I promise. I’ll meet you at six?”  
“Six it is.” He pulled away with one more kiss and picked up his files, “I’ll go ream Dave out in the meantime.”  
JJ grinned and sat down in her chair, “Give him hell for me too. And Aaron? What do you say about telling them all tomorrow?”  
“I think that sounds great. See you at six.”  
“We’ll be there.”  
With one last grin for his fiancée Hotch let his usual work mask slip back into place as he left her office and headed for the bullpen. Dave had some explaining to do.


End file.
